Beyond the Veil
by Black Hawk
Summary: Legolas has never felt so alone. Will friendship and family be enough to save him from despair?
1. Prologue: Life's Hidden and Dark Drama

**_Disclaimer_**: _The Lord of the Rings_ belongs to J.R.R Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema and their associates. I am making no money from this; it is just a wonderful way for me to write for an audience with room for me to improve upon my skills/technique through their comments and criticisms.

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**_Author's Note:_**_ In keeping with the spirit of "An Elf's Fall" and in response to numerous reviews encouraging me to do so, I have decided to begin a series (you could call it one big story if you like) centered around our favorite young prince. As in my previous story, the plot shall not be overly dramatic- for me, enough drama will come to Middle-earth once the Quest begins- and being set before the War of the Ring, I find the trials of daily life to be more suitable subject matter. And trials they are, for daily life, it seems, is often more dramatic than would appear… especially for our young prince._

_    This story (in particular the prologue) is written in the manner in which I use when I write for myself and not an audience, therefore your feedback will be MUCH appreciated and hopefully I shall shake off this garish mood and begin to write more plainly. ;o)_

_     So I invite you all now to join me in a most happy event (for my part, at least, and hopefully yours as well!) and may we all share together (along with our dear friend Legolas) the story called "Beyond the Veil." Without further ado and unwanted remarks from myself, I present to you now my humble yet audacious tale: _

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**Beyond the Veil**

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**Prologue: Life's Most Hidden and Dark Drama**

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      He was an image of serenity and confidence, determination and honor to all who knew him; save those who knew him best. Yet even they received only rare glimpses of an untamed spirit, both complex yet simple like all. Can one every truly know another? The task surely seems impossible given the depth and paradoxes of the soul. Familiarity may be reached, but for most of us, we die just trying to understand ourselves. 

     Therein lies life's most hidden and dark drama. Who am I? Who are you? Now, my dear reader, please, let us be honest. Can one ever truly know oneself? We are certainly more than nouns and titles. We must be defined by more than our mere relationships to one another. All know this yet few go beyond it. How can one know oneself when the self is constantly changing? The best we may ever hope for is slight recognition when we see our reflections in our own minds and those of others. 

      To be may be to be perceived but not all may be perceived. Our senses limit our exposure to the outside world. We see, hear, taste, smell, and touch what we've evolved to by necessity. If a color appeals to us there is a reason. Perhaps it is red like the flesh we crave to sustain us. Perhaps the shine in a fair maiden's hair is a sign of her health- a beacon to the would-be sires of her children. So it would seem that a bird is only as good as his plumage; yet that is the very paradigm that we strive to remind ourselves to contest day by day. It is not what is outside, but what is _inside_ that counts. 

     You'd think that creatures that had walked the earth as long as the Elves would well understand that- wouldn't you? Some would answer that they did, but to one Elf in particular, no one seemed to take the time to look beyond the veil of seeming much less scrutinize it for its faults and weaknesses to discover where another's heart truly lies. Where the veil falls away and the tumultuous, cavernous depth of being begin. 

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_     For those of you who have already begun to suspect this, I shall confirm your suspicions. Yes, this story most certainly is shaping up to be Romantic in all of the 1800's sense of the word (for those of you who do not know, this was a literary movement and does NOT mean this tale is a romance in the 'love' connotation of the word.)_

_This being the prologue and written in a manner that may not befit all, I would be most obliged if you would review. You may there tell me how foolishly eloquent I am attempting to sound and laugh- for I shall laugh with you. ;o)  _

_Please review! :oD _

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	2. Chapter I: Nienna

**Hey guys! Thanks so much to those whole three of you who reviewed- they were absolutely lovely! I hope you enjoy this chapter as we are actually beginning to reveal a bit of story here. ;o)**

**_Serenityofthematrix:_ Oh- I am most pleased that you have deemed my writing intelligent. Thank you many times over! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! ;o)**

**_The Brite One (Stacy):_ Thank you so much for your kind words! I had hoped that I was not superfluous in my endeavors, ;o0 I'm very glad that you could appreciate them! Do you enjoy reading a sentence twice? LOL- I only ask because I may be alone in that respect because I actually enjoy reading a particularly intriguing passage more than once then pausing to ponder over it, LOL. So I hope you don't mind it! And I hope you do enjoy this chapter. Please be sure to tell me in another lovely review! *wink, wink!* **

**_Silver Thorne_: Mellon-nïn! It is always so wonderful to hear from you! :oD! And I am so happy that you enjoy this as always! It's great to connect with people like this! Oh! Here's the new chapter! I hope you didn't have to wait too long for it. Enjoy! :oD! **

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**Chapter I: Nienna**

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     Legolas Greenleaf was born unto a king named Thranduil and his queen Sèrewen. Two were borne before him and two after him, often causing our already reflective hero to ponder his position in the middle as it were. Yet it was this very situation between a brother and a sister and a brother and a sister that gave him a unique perspective and insight into life, yet also quite unfortunately found him often alone. Not that he disliked the solitude; in fact, he rather enjoyed it, often stealing away at arties and festivities just for a chance to be alone. A change of pace- to hear the crickets chirp or watch the stars shine, to smell the sweet dry grass of summer of the dying leaves of the crisp autumn. No, for the most part our prince did not mind his solitude, or at least he didn't think that he did. Then again he didn't know any better having lived but one life and that life, of course, being this. 

      If he knew nothing else about his person for certain was that ever day he needed to have a moment alone or else the stiflings of day-to-day life would suffocate him.

      Having finished most of his formal training required from all Elves his age, our young prince now often found himself alone. Not for a lack of friends, for Legolas was well-liked and highly thought of by his educators, but he was surprised one day, while nearly dozing in the sun, to discover that the aloneness surrounding him was almost entirely of his making. This, of course, sent him into another healthy bout of soul searching. But try as he might he could think of no answer. One rarely does for such complicated things. 

     After the completion of his studies, he and most of his childhood friends had parted their separate ways, each pursuing their paths of interest and where their further studies may take them. He always knew he'd have to say goodbye but that didn't make it any less painful. At least his best friend still remained- some things would never change- and many others would often visit for not matter where they went their village was always their home. And a home is a grand thing to go back to. 

     In his heart Legolas knew this. He'd learned it vicariously yet save for annual family outings, the prince had never left his home for a long period of time. In fact, he'd always been very reluctant to.  Now, however, for the first time in his life, he was beginning to feel a call, a pulling from something outside, whether asking his to break his solitude or to discover something wholly different he did not know. He ignored the call- pushed it to the back of his mind. He had too much to deal with in real life now anyway. 

     His eldest brother was coming home for the winter celebrations. Eldest by both the age that separated him from his siblings and the distance. Save for minute physical similarities, Táradil and his four younger siblings hardly knew each other. Nor did it seem that Táradil had much interest in getting to know his younger counterparts. Not that they could blame him. He was born long before them and as such practically raised as an only child, and being the heir to Mirkwood, Táradil was under constant pressure and tutoring, traveling and studying. He was clearly on his way to becoming a king, for as Legolas watched his arrival he had greeted their father almost as an equal. Almost. 

     Thranduil was a tricky fellow, especially when it came to his children. Just the night before while all were seated round the table joking and enjoying each other's presence, Legolas had playfully announced (more for his younger siblings' amusement than for any real amount of perplexity) that since parents lose their names and become simply "adas" and "naneths" why then are children not called "son" or "daughter"? The comment brought fresh laughter from his little brother and sister yet a stern look from his father who had clearly not taken the remark so slightly. 

     "If anyone wants to see the finances of this household cut in a second they can call me 'Thranduil.'"

     Not really knowing what to make of their father's sudden dampening of their spirits the children began to playfully refer to each other as "daughter number two" and "son number three." 

     Sèrewen, meanwhile, was overheard by Legolas to give a synthetic chuckle before politely yet clearly peevishly quietly saying to her husband "'Cut off finances'? Do you really think that's a good incentive for your children?"

     Legolas was glad that Lissëwen and Nèndil did not hear and even if they did they would not understand. His mother, of course, in her lovely way, was right as always. He often had to refrain from glancing away in disgust at his father's sometimes perverse way of thinking. He hated his father for that- for always making his mother become the peace-weaver. If only he weren't so childish and blinded by his stresses then perhaps he could see what a morphed vision of the world he presented to his children. If nothing else, Legolas was constantly reminding himself that he would use his father as an example of what not to be like. When he had his own family he would make sure that the errors of his father did not also become the errors of him. 

     Thranduil had many reasons for being the way he was. His grandfather was an Elf with a twisted sense of justice. He had threatened his son with death by beating if he did not strike out on his own at an early age. That was also most likely why Legolas grandfather, the son in question, died tragically and defiantly in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. He, too, had an odd take on what was right and who should have power over another. Luckily, however, he never really beat his children like his father before him. Yet as soon as there was wrongdoing he was never hesitant to beat as a punishment. Thranduil, thank the Valar, had taken great strides and with the peace-inducing presence of Sèrewen, his love and his queen, his children were spared the belt for the most part. It was his verbal lashings that hurt the most, however. Sometimes Legolas wished that his father would just hit him- that way he would have taken his punishment and have the luxury of physical pain to distract him from his emotional wounds. Yet these were dark matters that the prince disliked dwelling upon- a pain that he'd rather let gnaw at his heart, forgotten, than let shatter the reality of the somewhat enjoyable circumstances of the moment.

     "Being called 'Ada' is one of the last great joys in life," Thranduil was rather emotionally confessing, and while a part of him melted at the sight of his imposing father admitting such a thing, a darker, more primitive part made a loud note to never slip and call Thranduil by his first name. 

    Legolas attempted to reason with this voice while his mother good-naturedly asked why Thranduil would be so offended by being called by his first name. She had been raised in a much more democratic household, it seemed to Legolas, as he often-times ached that she had to put on a mask to fit in here. Not often, but he always noticed when she did. 

   Thranduil went on to explain that it was sheer disrespect for a child to call their parents by their first names and if his father wasn't taking the topic so seriously he would have burst into laughter. Yet as it was he decided that it wasn't even safe to bring up the fact that he never proposed calling his father "Thranduil" but rather simply applying the same logic that bore 'ada' and 'naneth' to children, as well. He was clearly of  a mindset more akin to that of his mother's and was trying to fight back the urge to remind his father that his young cousin referred to his parents by their first names and – why not? That's what everyone else called them.

     Poor Dimrûthiel had had enough now and was clearing away her dishes as Thranduil continued his end of a pointless argument. "Name one person whose child calls them by their first name- besides your sister!" Well there you have it; Thranduil did remember Legolas' cousin and his nephew. 

     With last evening's meal in mind Legolas could admire Táradil's handling of their father with even more amazement. Yet even Táradil's arrival was not the most anticipated y Legolas and his younger siblings. Their oldest sister Nienna had recently moved away to complete her studies. She was greatly missed by their family. Growing up, she had been Legolas' playmate and companion and they'd shared hundreds of adventures together. True, for the most part the only dangers they ever faced were in their imaginations, but Legolas and Nienna were still the closest in age. Next, by nearly thrice the gap of he and Nienna's age came Lissëwen and about the same gap as he and Nienna came Nèndil. 

    So it was that Nienna was greatly missed and, especially by her little sister Lissëwen who would sometimes get tired of growing up with a boy on either side of her. The two shared a room when Nienna would stay with them. While he adored both of his younger siblings and felt that he helped raise Lissëwen, he felt a natural inclination to bond with Nèndil, his baby brother. Besides, Lissëwen was at that somewhat awkward age where she wouldn't want to play with a boy, brother or not. She was busy seeking out friends and discovering that some boys were more than just annoying and she was quite bust gossiping about them with her friends, among many other things, of course. She was such a sweet and honest girl and Legolas knew he'd grown up with her as he had with Nienna. Between the three of them they had enough tales of their plights of imagination to fill a library the size of that of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, or so they liked to imagine. 

      So it was that Nienna's arrival was greatly anticipated by her younger counterparts yet none of them had counted upon what she would bring home with her. To Legolas, it was pure trouble.

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**_Please review! :oD!_**

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	3. Chapter II: Amras

Suilaid! How are you all? Well, since school's started for me again I've been quite busy, yet I have managed to work my butt off working ahead to make some free time to write for all you lovely people. Please be sure to tell me what's working and what's not working with this story. With any luck I'll have another new chapter up soon! :oD 

**The Brite One (Stacy):** Yay! I'm so glad that I could deliver another decent chapter for you. :o) Thranduil is a puzzle, isn't he? I do believe you're right, my dear. When I wrote that chapter it was a bit "lighter"- certainly less philosophical and more, well, story-like, LOL. 

OMG- that line that you quoted made me smile then do a double take in horror- LOL. I realized that I'd written that part wrong! (Legolas only has two older siblings in my story, not three! :os) I'll repost the corrected version after I post this. Thanks sweetie! 

**Serenityofthematrix****:** Hannon le! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story and the development of its characters. I had hoped that they'd seem real enough and mAybe remind readers of people they knew in their own lives. Thanks for always being there and I look forward to hearing from you again! :oD 

**Das**** Blume**: Yay! I was so happy to see that I got another review from you, sweetie! :oD Oh- if you do draw his family members I can't wait to see them! Hmm… that means I better start dishing out physical descriptions! LOL. I'm so happy that you're enjoying this. ;o) For heavens sake- I hope the weather's warmed up! You poor thing! Love ya babe and hope to hear from you about this chapter soon!

**_Important:_** As **The Brite One** inadvertently pointed out to me, I had a major mistake in the opening lines of the last chapter _*cowers in embarrassment*_ I don't know what I was thinking but Legolas is one of five children, therefore he has two older siblings and two younger siblings, not three older siblings as I mistakenly put! It shall be fixed shortly but I just thought that you'd like to know. 

Thanks for reading! Big hug to all! :oD

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**_Chapter II: Amras_**

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All his life Legolas had desired to make a pilgrimage to the White Cliffs as the Elves of old did. There, it was rumored, were buried treasures of ancient kings and the most beautiful birds sang. He supposed that somewhere deep down he had a wish to bring home some of these treasures for his father who loved them dearly yet it was the call to adventure that he answered. It was popular, long before he was born, to accompany an expedition on a journey to these cliffs. New trails had since been made and the journey was quite simple for the average traveler. However, every once in a while an opportunity arose for the more adventurous spirit and wilderness loving heart. After having read so many stories of the place and imagining himself on such a journey along the old trails, Legolas easily fit into this category. 

So when an expedition was arranged in the old fashion with the intended route being an old and dangerous trail through the wilds, you can wager that our prince was one of the first to reserve a place upon said expedition. In fact, he'd spent nearly the entire week before daydreaming of what grand adventures he should have upon this undertaking. For him it was the opportunity of a lifetime and a childhood dream come true. He was finally going to follow the _very_ paths of his ancestors and witness the sublime. When he returned he would certainly have his own story to tell. Nienna would listen to every word. 

Strangely enough, the last few times that she had visited her home Legolas had been eager to show her how grown-up he, too, was. He had completed most of his mandatory education and was now following his interests through further, albeit more specialized training. He had wanted to show her that he was her equal and no longer that raggedy child whom had followed her everywhere when they were young. He had wanted to show her that he was his own person in charge of his own future. She had been interested at first but he soon found himself fighting for her attention. He thought she'd be happy to see the change in him. 

Yet try as he may to prove his own maturity and adulthood to Nienna the more he discovered that he was still just one of the children; and he wasn't ready to give that up yet. He was painfully aware of the distance growing between him and Nienna and seemed to be latching on to Lissëwen and Nèndil all the more strongly. Since Nienna was gone they were all he had left.

He seemed to be in constant battle with his will to stay with his family and his instinctual need to answer the call that beckoned he leave and in dong so learn more about himself. That was the call he usually ignored, yet from Nienna's visits he had learned that he would always be a child, at least a part of him, until he took that leap of faith and left home. This journey to the White Cliffs was going to be a small step towards that; a small appeasing of the call that beckoned to him. 

The journey to the cliffs itself was not problematic. Legolas reveled in the difficult terrain, delighting with the others when a strange and new bird song was heard. In the pools of the waterfalls which tumbled over the cliffs Legolas even caught a glimpse of a rare yet beautiful rainbow-scaled fish. 

The group spent one night at the cliffs, wandering and exploring their sheer vastness and scrutinizing the marks left by past travelers. To be able to walk and touch what one so much older may have was truly exhilarating to the young prince. 

They would have tarried longer but for a nasty storm that blew in. Understandably downtrodden, the group left at first light the next morning in a futile attempt to beat the storm home yet still following the ancient paths. 

It was Legolas' misfortune, however, to have discovered that the clear waters that make up the falls surrounding the White Cliffs were of a composition that didn't agree with his stomach in the least bit. Some of the guides offered comfort by sharing that he was certainly not the first to get sick from the waters there- some mineral in the very cliffs themselves gave the water an ill taint to many. If only he had been warned of this beforehand! 

So it was that our fair prince found himself fighting to keep up his spirits in the midst of vomiting for all he was worth and then some. On the way home, the storm caught up with the travelers and unleashed its fury of icy wind and a downpour of rain. Caught in the middle of two apparent evils as it were, Legolas merely suffered the journey home- half frozen and insides quaking. He did not even have the resolve to lift his eyes to the canopy above to search out the birds who were making such glorious music the day before. Instead, it was all he could do to keep his eyes upon the trail before him and his feet under him. Keeping his now-soaked cloak around him and his stomach from getting any more ideas, although he had long ago lost all of anything he had to throw up, he trudged on. Dry heaves seemed determined to make themselves his companions. 

When at last they returned home there was a greeting party of loved ones offering warm blankets and hugs to their travelers. Legolas was not surprised to see his mother and his little brother waiting for him; however, the two standing behind them did manage to catch him off guard. Nienna and Amras, her new love interest. Luckily for both Legolas and Amras, the two had met on a brief basis on an earlier occasion. The prince's impression of the Elf was less than golden and in his moment of physical weakness he was one of the last people Legolas wanted, or expected, to deal with. Yet Nienna's early, unannounced arrival was certainly welcomed. 

His mother embraced him despite the fact that he was utterly soaked. Seeing his unusually pale complexion she knew that he must be anxious to get home and warm and stepped aside to ask the servant who had accompanied her to bring their horses. 

Nèndil, of course, was burying Legolas in questions which he tried his best to answer while attempting to hide his chattering teeth. At least his shivering had calmed a bit. He hated for Amras or anyone for that matter to see him like this. 

Turning to his older sister he smiled warmly. "Nienna, I did not expect to see you here so soon." 

Nienna merely grinned and turned to Amras when he squeezed her held hand in a sign of obvious affection. Legolas pretended that he didn't see the gesture and turned to his gaze to Amras. "_Suilaid_," he inclined his head briefly.

Sèrewen mercifully arrived with their horses and the six of them rode off under the clearing skies. While Legolas was busy concentrating on staying upon his horse in his miserable condition Nèndil rode up alongside him, gave a fleeting glance in each direction then spoke mutedly. "Nienna's not really home."

Legolas blinked in shock. "Whatever do you mean?"

"She's just here for the banquet tonight, then she's riding with Amras to his village before returning for the winter celebrations."

Legolas clenched his jaw. Of course Nienna didn't want to spend time with _her own family_. She'd only make a public appearance at the banquet as was expected then leave with that prissy Amras only to return at some unannounced hour and spend her days wallowing in melancholy for the loss of his presence. Within an instant, Legolas felt the gap between he and Nienna widen even more. 

Fine. If that was how she wanted to liver her life then fine. You'd never find him dumping his family to spend time with some love interest of his. They were of the royal family, did Nienna really think that Amras was interested in her personality? 

_Crude_, Legolas chided himself. _Crude and cruel_. Who was he to judge their love? He'd certainly never really been in love himself so he decided that he better reserve his judgment. 

After finally arriving home a hot bath never felt so good to the shivering prince and he had to fight to stay awake in its warm embrace. All he wanted was to curl up under some warm blankets and sleep forever, but alas, the banquet called and his presence would be needed much sooner than he desired. Trying to ignore the drain on his energy that the small task of dressing and walking the very short distance to his chambers exhorted upon his body, he let himself fall ungracefully upon his bed. 

He seriously doubted that he'd even be able to muster a single smile at the event tonight. Yet his sense of duty was stronger than his physical state and smile he did to the family friends present at the dinner that night. While most food was still rather unappetizing to him, he ate enough to keep up his strength and join in the after meal conversations. 

As he felt his body all but disappear into the couch in the adjoining fireplace-lit room after the meal as he fought the urge to sleep once more. He was thus engaged as other guests began filtering into the room and was surprised to feel a soft thump on the cushion next to him. He looked up to see Amras give him a faint smile of greeting which he managed to send back. While all others seemed to be engaged in lively conversations, Legolas did his best to keep his end of his conversation with Amras going under Nienna's nearby ear. 

Nèndil and his best friend Gwindor were laughing and chasing each other around the room while a dog joined in and he couldn't help but smile. Lissëwen had already retired with Gwindor's older sister, Nátulcien who was also her best friend. Legolas found him wondering how his own dear friend Hilyandil was faring. It had been a long time since they had seen one another, and even longer since he had heard from his childhood companion Arwen Evenstar. Since she moved to Lothlorien to be with her grandmother Galadriel he had seen little of the Evenstar. They had met when he was very young, so young, in fact, that he could not even remember their first meeting. Arwen, of course, had been older than he and practically worshipped Nienna in her youth. Needless to say she had become like a cousin to Legolas for when they no longer played their childhood games she was often visiting with Nienna. The two were great friends. 

It was then that he realized that he'd completely lost focus of whatever Amras was droning on about and decided by the expression on the other male's face that he could get away with simply politely smiling at whatever the other had said to seem attentive. 

The evening ended and at long last Legolas was allowed to retire to his bed, only to awake to discover that Nienna had already left with Amras and that he never got to say goodbye.

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**_Please review!_**

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